


Ramsay's New Hunting Dog

by darkandstormyslash



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU where Robb Stark is captured rather than killed, Belting, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Mental Torture, No actual dogs or bestiality, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Physical Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Training, brainwashing elements, emotional torture, just descriptions of people in dog-like ways, show!ramsay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: Ramsay trains a wolf to be his new hunting dog.Reek helps.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Reek, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41
Collections: Thramsay Secret Satan 2020





	Ramsay's New Hunting Dog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparrowhound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowhound/gifts).



1: Ramsay

Ramsay’s first instinct is to keep Reek and Wolf apart. He can’t see how introducing them will make Wolf any more pliable and there’s a danger it will damage Reek’s carefully applied training. Reek was fun to train, but easy. In the beginning, Ramsay even let him escape a few times, just to snuff out that final spark of hope as he was dragged kicking and screaming back to the Dreadfort. Ramsay still remembers the day the training took, the day he left the door to Reek’s cell unlocked and ajar all night. When he came back the next morning Reek was still in his cell, staring mournfully at the open door. The door was in Reek’s mind now, and it stayed bolted shut. 

Wolf is harder. His father won’t let him tie Wolf to a saltire and strip him down to the bone. Wolf is more important. Wolf is  _ political _ .

It annoys Ramsay like an itch he can’t quite scratch. He’s forbidden from slicing anything off Wolf, so he tries starving him. But when his ribs show through to the bone, and his eyes stare out from a hollowed skull Roose catches on. Wolf is fed, Ramsay gets a dressing down, and Reek spends the next few days limping around Winterfell, welts warming his back. There are other ways Ramsay can hurt Wolf, dark secret ways that leave no mark, but Wolf is still caged and guarded in the Winterfell dungeons. One hour of furtive training every other midnight doesn’t go very far. Wolf is no Reek, no paper man flimsily constructed around a hollow shell ready to cave in. Wolf has a core of self belief that puts a rage in his belly and fire in his eyes. There are people who rely on him, burdens that mean things to him, responsibilities that he is unable to escape. Ramsay longs, desperately, for the day that fire will die out, the day he can physically  _ watch _ the flames snuff into ash. 

The idea comes to him all of a sudden in a flash of inspiration. It comes a day Roose is out collecting grain levies from the surrounding lords, so Ramsay grabs Reek by the scruff of the neck, picks up a small whippy switch, and hurries down to the dungeons. His main worry is that it might be bad for Reek, but he can always re-train Reek bending him back into shape like a pliable willow branch. Reek isn’t going anywhere.

He wrenches open the door to Wolf’s cell and nods at Ben to make himself scarce. He doesn’t want anyone else down here complicating things. Just him, his trained dog and the one that still needs breaking in. True to form, Wolf scowls at him, wrapping his rags around himself and drawing himself up like the king he once laid claim to being.

“What do you want, Snow?”

Next to him Reek gives a tiny strangled whimper. Of course, Reek thought Wolf was dead. It belatedly occurs to Ramsay that he maybe should have given Reek some warning. Well. It’s as good a chance as any to see how that locked door in his mind holds up.

Carefully he steps forward, keeping beyond the length of Wolf’s chains and ignoring Reek entirely. “I’ve come to view my newest pet. I’ve been thinking of what to train you for. You might make a decent hunting dog. Reek can’t hunt, not anymore, but I think you might enjoy the chase and the kill. Eventually.”

Wolf snarls, lip curling. Next to him Ramsay feels Reek trembling. Reek has moved closer, his ruined hands clutching at Ramsay’s cloak for support. Ramsay can  _ feel _ the word, the name, rising up in Reek’s throat, trembling on the back of his tongue, but not brave enough to be spoken. 

Gently, Ramsay places a hand on the back of Reek’s neck, stroking it softly, strangely proud of his pet for not breaking down. “Reek, this is Wolf. He’s going to be our new hunting dog.” 

“W-wolf…” Reek whispers gently.

For the first time, Wolf’s eyes flicker away from Ramsay’s. At first glance he dismisses Reek, which is priceless because it means Ramsay gets to watch the slow dawning realisation cross his face. The confusion, anger, pain and sorrow as he rapidly cycles through emotions trying to decide which one to finish on. Reek is watching as well and his body shudders, eyes welling up as he clutches at Ramsay even harder.

“R-ro-”

Ramsay’s hand tightens on the back of Reeks neck like a vice. The shivering immediately stops and Reek drops his gaze, staring at the floor and going gently limp. 

“ _ Theon _ ?” Wolf croaks out.

This, at least, Reek knows the answer to. He shakes his head, still not meeting Wolf’s eyes, “N-no. Theon Greyjoy is dead. Reek. I-I’m Reek. Reek.”

Keeping his eyes fixed on Wolf, Ramsay moves his face closer to his pet, biting down at the base of Reek’s jaw. “Good boy. He’s very good. Maybe you’ll be this good one day.”

“What have you done to him?” Wolf snaps, voice shaky. He seems utterly spooked and Ramsay is delighted. So far, this is working about as well as he could have hoped for. “He - Theon. That  _ thing _ is Theon.”

“I’ve trained him.” Ramsay explains, while next to him Reek starts up a terrified little stutter of his name. “He’s perfect now. Theon was a coward, a traitor, a turncloak. Reek is loyal. Loyal to me.” He gives Reek a quick shake by the neck and then hands him the switch. “Reek, I need you to whip him for me.”

He’s not sure which one of them looks most shocked. Two pairs of confused eyes are fixed on him, one shot through with terror the other with anger. Ramsay allows himself to savour the moment. With one hand he pets at Reek’s hair, stroking it softly. “We need to train our new hunting dog Reek, I need you to whip him. I know he’s a big dog, and very fierce. I’ll stop him if he hurts you. Do you understand me?”

Reek’s apprehensive gaze flickers back to Wolf. He looks nervous. Wolf certainly  _ is _ a big dog, even hollowed out with hunger and captivity. He’s a dangerous one, more dangerous than Reek ever was. He doesn’t growl at Reek though, as the skinny figure stumbles forward. He lifts his hands warningly, but his eyes are full of the usual mixture of disgust and pity that Ramsay sees a lot when people look at Reek.

Poor Reek. No wonder he clings to Ramsay so much. Nobody else can stand him. 

Trembling, Reek raises the switch and lightly taps it down against Wolf’s shoulder. Ramsay rolls his eyes, undoing his belt with the menacing click of metal against leather. “Whip him properly, Reek, or I’ll show you how.”

The next strike lands with a little more force, enough to make Wolf hiss and back away. Reek stumbles forward and strikes down again, suddenly energised with the realisation that retaliation doesn’t seem to be forthcoming. It takes three more strokes before Wolf has had enough, surging forward with an angry growl and snatching the switch out of Reek’s hands. He snaps it against the side of the dungeon and gives Reek a shove which sends him sprawling.

“Stop this. Theon,  _ listen _ to me!”

Ramsay lunges forward immediately with the belt, catching Wolf across the mouth to shut him up. Reek is face down on the grimy floor, lost in a terrified whimpering of his own name. Ramsay towers above him, kicking him still and undoing the front of his trousers. 

“Honestly Reek, that was pathetic.” 

Wolf pushes himself dizzily upright, wiping the back of his hand across his bloodied mouth, “Leave him alone.”

“One of us is going to fuck him, Wolf. Because I’m feeling generous, you can decide which one.”

“I’m not touching him.” Wolf spits back. With his hackles raised and his teeth red with blood he looks like a true hunting dog. “And you won’t touch him either.”

“Oh?” Wolf is crouched, feral and protective, so Ramsay grabs Reek by the ankle and yanks him out of the way. “How exactly are you going to stop me?”

“I’ll tell Bolton. Your father. He’ll stop you.”

Ramsay laughs, kicking Reek’s legs apart. Reek has fallen silent now, pliable and open, ready for what he knows is coming. “My father won’t let me harm you while you’re still useful. But I haven’t harmed you. Reek is  _ my _ thing, and he doesn’t care how I treat my things. If you want, Wolf, you can take him. He won’t like it, he hates it when I have other men use him. You’ll have to hold him down and force your way in. You’ll be doing that a lot as a hunting dog, so I’d suggest you start trying to enjoy it.” Crouching down, Ramsay yanks down Theon’s trousers, letting Wolf see the bruising over his arse and hole. “Or maybe you could even try and be gentle for him. He doesn’t get that very often. You’ll certainly hurt him a lot less than I will. Which do you think is the more honourable choice?”

Gritting his teeth, Wolf turns stubbornly towards the wall, wrapping his rags around himself and pointedly ignoring the two of them. Ramsay can’t force him to look, but he can certainly give his new pet plenty to listen to. He draws it out as long as he can, and Reek’s screams seem to cut Wolf far deeper than the switch or the knife ever could.

2: Reek

It’s been a month since Master brought the new pet up into their bed. 

Reek still isn’t sure how he feels about Wolf. 

Part of him, a certain horrible shameful part, feels a small amount of relief that he is no longer the sole focus of Ramsay’s attentions. Having another body in the bed helps to spread out the worst of Ramsay’s viciousness, and Wolf is a nice big warm body. Some nights Reek even gets to sleep relatively unmolested, his body curled up under the blankets while Wolf howls and struggles from his chain-post by the fire.

On the other hand, sharing the worst of Ramsay also means sharing the best of him. There are plenty of times when Reek feels the gnawing ache of jealousy grind through him. When the winter evening draws in, and Wolf is curled up in Ramsay’s lap being fed scraps of meat and fish, Reek hates him with a desperate passion. Next to Wolf, Reek is skinny and helpless, a stuttering gasping little wreck of a thing. When Wolf and Master go out hunting, Reek has a sick and terrible hope that something painful and deadly will happen to Wolf, leaving him the only one in Ramsay’s obsessive little world.

But Wolf can be kind to him. He’s kinder than Ramsay when he rolls on top of Reek and takes him. It hurts, the state his body is in now Reek thinks it will always hurt, but Wolf is warm and gentler than Ramsay and the boys. His arms cradle Reek against the hard edges of the floor and his tongue licks a wet hot stripe under Reek’s ear, his cock nudging at the aching bruised flesh between Reek’s legs until it finally yields. Wolf has been allowed to keep his cock. He needs it for hunting.

Most times, Reek yields to Wolf’s cock as he does to his Master’s, but there are some days when he’s sore and irritable and not at all in the mood for a big horny dog to be thrusting into him. Because Wolf is not Master he is allowed to resist, besides which it always makes Ramsay laugh to watch his scrawny, underfed Reek trying to fight off a prize hunting dog. He never intervenes, finding it far funnier to watch as Wolf growls and bares his teeth, roughly dragging Reek into position. Occasionally Reek can fight him off. A good kick in the balls and Wolf whimpers and slinks away, with something a little sad and a little human in his eyes. More usually he’s bullied into submission. Not so much with violence, but with an undeniable roughness that ends with Wolf happy and sated, curled around him by the fire and licking the tears from Reek’s cheeks.

Only once did Master punish Wolf for the way he treated Reek’s arse. One evening, soon after Wolf had been brought into Master’s bed. They’d had a hunt, and Wolf had not been allowed to finish himself. Ramsay had kept him desperate and hard all day, his cock tied off with wet leather that shrunk through the evening. Reek could see by the desperate look in Wolf’s eyes that he’d be jumped as soon as that leather was released. Sure enough, when Ramsay finally tickled under Wolf’s swollen balls for the last time and undid the leather, Reek didn’t even make it to the bed. He squealed and kicked as he was rolled against the hard floor, blindly flailing out in a panic. Wolf’s breath panted hot against his ear, the hard cock rutting against raw skin and Wolf gave a half sob as he gasped into the back of Reek’s neck, “Oh gods, Theon, I’m so sorry.”

Through the thudding in his ears, Reek heard Master’s voice. “This isn’t Theon Greyjoy, Wolf, don’t make me tell you again. Theon Greyjoy loved to fuck. Reek hates it.”

The hands grew still against Reek’s arms, the cock at his back slowly softened. Reek felt a shifting behind him and then Wolf sat up, almost like a man. He looked at Master, straight in the eyes, and whispered, “You’ll not make me hurt him.”

Master beat him then, for most of the night. Reek curled up in the bed with his hands over his ears and felt a shameful, horrible twinge of relief that for once the beating wasn’t for him.

3: Wolf

Wolf loves to hunt. It’s no fun being cooped up in Winterfell all day, pacing through the halls, stalking round the outhouses, watching the jealous glares from Master’s other little pet as it peeks out at him. Wolf knows deep inside his mind that the other pet is Theon Greyjoy, that he is Robb Stark, and that between the two of them they’re letting down every ancestor they’ve ever had right back to the very first men. He knows it, but he also knows it’s easier not to think about it.

Not thinking makes the world so much better. If he thinks about what’s happening - what he’s doing and how he’s acting - his mind fills up with a screaming worse than the screams Theon Greyjoy made the first night Wolf watched Master fuck him. If he thinks of all the people he’s hurt, the hunts, the kills, it’s almost too much to fathom. Instead he loses himself in being Wolf. Wolf is a good dog, with a proud Master, who is  _ excellent _ at hunting. Wolf gets to eat the best scraps from the table, and sate his urges with the little jealous pet. Jealous pet squeals and wriggles so deliciously when Wolf takes him. And Wolf knows that there’s a small part of Robb Stark which always wanted to know how it felt to fuck the big bold Greyjoy. The almost-big-brother, always so cocky and assured, who now breaks down into a trembling wreck as Wolf pushes up deep inside him.

Once he gets over the monstrous horror of it all, being Wolf is  _ easy _ . It’s a lot easier than being Robb Stark, and it’s several times more preferable to being Robb Stark locked up in his own dungeons listening to Theon Greyjoy being tortured. Wolf can ignore the screams and the terror. Wolf has no responsibilities, to people or places. Wolf doesn’t have to face the empty stare of Roose Bolton, chipped ice eyes with disturbing shadows circling beneath. All he has to do is hunt, fuck, and kill on command. 

It pleases Master when he does that. Master rubs him down, and wraps soft linen around his hands and feet, with hard leather wrapped after them so he can run through the snow without injury. He’s clad in a direwolf fur, which smells comforting and strangely familiar. The fur makes him feel even more like a wolf as he bounds through the forests. He dimly remembers having a little brother once, who could slide inside the minds of animals. In a way it’s what he’s done with Wolf, except instead of just the mind he’s occupied it completely, body and soul.

But best of all, Wolf does not need to think. Master pets his ears and laughs, scratching at the shaggy hair which now grows beyond his shoulders. “Are you happy, Wolf? Are you happy being my hunting dog?”

Wolf growls and nods, rolling back and showing his belly because it makes Master pleased. Sometimes Master will hurt the exposed part, but by now Wolf is used to daily knocks and pain. As long as he behaves, he’s never punished too badly.

“See Reek, he’s happy. You should be happy too.” 

The little jealous pet twitches and looks up nervously. Wolf bares his teeth briefly as he watches the damaged thing attempt a broken gap-toothed smile. Reek is never happy, and Wolf can sort of understand why. He’s punished a lot more, and seems to feel pain and cold more keenly. Master broke Reek by cutting away anything that made him Theon, and repeating the lesson at any sign of anything other than complete obedience. Master didn’t need to cut anything away from Wolf. Instead, he just made a world where it was far easier to be Wolf than anything else.

Reaching out with a leather-wrapped fist, he paws at the little jealous pet’s side. It’s colder now the winter is here, and instead of wearing stinking linen, Reek is wearing stinking fur. It’s a lot nastier than Wolf’s sleek direwolf one. Master rolls his eyes, reaching out carelessly to tug away the filthy material, leaving Reek naked and shivering, “I swear, Wolf, you only think of your belly and your cock. Do you want him?”

The hunt was good, the food was good, and the fire is warm. Of course he wants to play.

Master leans back in the chair and nods at Reek, who trembles and moves carefully onto all fours. There are so many scars and lines across his body, that Wolf does feel sorry for him, and he carefully licks a stripe up one side of the red bruised arse. Master’s belt, applied that morning, reason unclear. Master doesn’t often need a reason. Wolf knows that by now.

“There was a time,” Master says with a smile in his voice, as Wolf lets his tongue rasp between the bruised cheeks to the sore little pucker within, “When you wouldn’t even fuck him on command. I don’t suppose you remember. Wolves have long memories, but this was before you were properly a wolf.”

If Wolf thinks, he could probably remember. He doesn’t want to think. He wants to mount the soft little submissive thing in front of him and lose the ache that’s growing in his balls.

“It took a long time, didn’t it Reek? My Wolf held out for so long. Even after I got you out of that filthy dungeon and into the bedroom you still wouldn’t fuck him.”

Reek is trembling beneath him, his hands curled around against the floor. He doesn’t seem to want to remember any more than Wolf does. Pushing himself up onto his knees, Wolf rubs his thick cock against the wet little pucker, waiting until it just starts to yield before pushing forward with a grunt of effort. Reek yelps and twitches but Wolf holds him still, bending to worry at the skin on the back of his neck. That usually calms Reek down, or at the very least it makes him go limp.

“I remember the first night you did it.” Ramsay says softly, his eyes fixed on the two of them. “I kept your balls tied off for a week. You were so desperate, so beautiful. I thought you might try to make it easy on him, show him some kindness, teach him how good it could be.”

There’s no blood this time, which Wolf takes as a sign to start thrusting. He gives hard sharp snaps of his hips as Reek sniffles into the floor. He can remember that night, of course he can. The first night he realised, truly and deeply realised, just how much  _ easier _ it was to be Wolf.

“I wanted to watch the fire die out in your eyes.” Master murmurs, leaning closer, his hand running through the shaggy mop of Wolf’s hair. “I didn’t expect to see it ignite. That first time you took Reek - you were so  _ alive _ , Wolf. You were dumb and obedient, but you were  _ there _ . You enjoyed it. I saw you.”

Wolf gives a whine in reply, by now only half listening. While Ramsay is his Master and has his loyalty, the warm tight body beneath him currently has his full attention. Reek’s arse is much more interesting than uncomfortable memories of previous fucks.

“I knew that was how I wanted you.” Ramsay leans back in his chair again, picking up a wine goblet and downing it. “Reek is my masterpiece but you, Wolf, you are something different. Not quite a wild animal, not quite a man. A wolf with the echoes of a human in its head. The perfect hunting dog.

Master thinks he’s perfect. He’s never been perfect before. The heat rushes through him as Wolf raises his head and howls. His cum floods into Reek, filling him and leaking out around the loosened entrance. Wolf feels his mind empty, tipping back his head and closing his eyes at the blissful moment of sudden silence. Here there are no thoughts, no screams, no fear, nothing but a still emptiness that’s almost peace.

He never had that as a human. 

It’s so much easier being Wolf.

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ZEKE!  
> Have a wonderful Christmas XD


End file.
